


when rome's in ruins

by antijosh



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Road Trips, brian kang is an unreliable narrator, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antijosh/pseuds/antijosh
Summary: jae and brian's post-freshman year victory lap; or, jae insists they take a road trip to celebrate college not killing them and brian is just along for the ride.





	when rome's in ruins

**Author's Note:**

> a few notes:
> 
> this is based off my favorite fob song ever, young volcanoes. i know there are a million day6 road trip aus, but doing a jaebri one for this song just felt Right so. here we are anyway. apologies for any inaccuracies regarding the west coast setting, i am an east coast baby thru and thru.
> 
> beta'd by rosa, without whom i wld have to bemoan my existence on a road side somewhere. any and all remaining errors are mine.
> 
> all that said, i hope you enjoy!

_prologue_

The idea springs to life in the corner booth of the closest burger joint to campus, Jae’s greasy fingers brushing Brian’s as they polish off the basket of fries between them.

“We need a victory lap,” Jae declares, sucking the grains of salt off his fingertips as Brian tries not to stare at the pursing of Jae’s pretty pink lips.

“What did we win?” Brian snorts. He thinks back to the past year, and fails to find much worth celebrating. Man, he knew college would be hard, but this? His GPA is in the trash and he’s fifteen pounds heavier than when he started—he doesn’t see where the victory lies.

Brian tells Jae as much, and his best friend laughs in his face.

“We survived, man! Finals ended yesterday and we’re still here, college hasn’t killed us yet!”

“Sure as hell feels like it,” Brian grumbles, and that's when Jae throws a tiny, shriveled fry at his face.

“Victory lap, you and me,” Jae repeats. Before Brian can even ask what the hell that _means,_ Jae’s eyes light up. “We need a road trip!”

Brian’s forehead hits the slightly sticky surface of the table, but with the prospect of a road trip with Jae looming ahead, he can’t even bother to care.

_mile 0_

Brian isn’t hard to convince (at least when it comes to Jae), which is how he finds himself up at the ass crack of dawn on a day in early June, loading a duffle bag big enough to fit Wonpil inside of it into the trunk of Jae’s car. It’s a 2000 Lexus, the Nokia phone of cars, so Brian feels pretty safe even with Jae behind the steering wheel.

Brian planned their route, not so much because he doesn’t trust Jae to do it as much as he just feels the need to control _something_ otherwise his brain threatens to explode. Jae’s a hyperactive mess, sure, but he’s always been better at diving in headfirst. He’d done it all through high school and their first year of college—hell, Jae even approached Brian first when they met in the eighth grade. All that to say, Brian needs a plan more than Jae does so it was only fair, only natural that this responsibility fall to him.

Their first destination? Death Valley.

“For a victory lap, you sure do know how to make a guy sad,” Jae complains from the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel with the other elbow propped up on the rolled down window.

“Half a league, half a league, half a league onward. All in the valley of Death rode the six hundred,” Brian recites, and Jae rolls his eyes.

“Fucking English majors,” he says, and Brian’s nose wrinkles.

“I’m not even an English major,” he argues, albeit weakly, and Jae rolls his eyes again.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you should be. And don’t give me that bullshit about business being more useful, anybody who quotes Tennyson for fun deserves to be an English major,” Jae bites back.

Brian’s eyes narrow. “How’d you know it was Tennyson?”

Jae shrugs, eyes never leaving the road. “Lucky guess.”

_mile 63_

“I’m hungry,” Jae announces about two whole seconds before he swings a hard right into a McDonald’s drive through. “Same as usual?” he asks, and Brian nods through a yawn, just barely managing to make a grunt of affirmation before they pull up to the speaker.

Jae orders for them, the same as always: two sausage McGriddles and a small coffee with gratuitous sugar for Jae and a hotcake meal, egg and cheese McMuffin, and large black coffee for Brian.

They don’t stop to eat to save time, which means Jae just has one hand on the wheel and Brian has to balance everything on his knees, but it also means they’ll get there faster which is preferable. Even in these less than ideal conditions, they manage to finish everything in record time, and Brian nearly kills them both when he tries to wipe the syrup off Jae’s mouth with a napkin and ends up obscuring Jae’s view completely.

Jae jokes they should keep a tally of how many times they almost die on this trip, and Brian takes a sharpie to the inside of the glovebox, marking one neat line next to the hinge. Jae bitches and Brian sticks his tongue out in return—it’s amazingly domestic. At least by Brian’s standards.

_mile 198_

Brian’s head lolls against the window, and he jolts awake whenever they hit any slight bump in the road. It’s not the slightest bit pleasant—except maybe Jae’s amused smile every time it happens. Yeah, that’s kind of nice.

_mile 269_

“I’m really starting to think I shouldn’t have let you plan this,” Jae announces, hands on his hips and looking every inch a Korean-American dad despite his Jordans and jorts. “A ghost town? That’s your idea for a good first stop? Where’s the fun, BriBri?”

“The fun will be when you get possessed by the spirit of a gold miner,” Brian deadpans, and Jae just jostles Brian’s shoulder, shuddering.

“Not funny,” Jae replies, and that’s when Brian finally laughs.

The ghost town is nice, though not nearly as spooky at 9 a.m. as Brian would have hoped. He proposes they stop again on the way back for an evening visit, which is quickly shot down. Jae claims it’s because it’s “boring,” but Brian catches the look Jae shoots over his shoulder when they go to get back into the car. He capitalizes on the situation, digging his fingers into the space between Jae’s ribs when Jae isn’t looking, and is rewarded with an incredibly high pitched squeal in return.

Their next stop in Death Valley National Park is a half mile long boardwalk that takes them to a river. Somehow, Jae manages to complain about every twenty feet of that half mile, and then decides to very loudly announce that he “didn’t know there was water in Death Valley.” It’s all Brian can do to stop himself from dragging a palm down his face.

They drive through the rest of the sights, enjoying the view of the sun-bleached mountains while Jae’s blasts Fall Out Boy’s “Death Valley” on repeat until Brian forcibly shuts it off. As much as Jae complained about their first stop, he has a smile on his face as he winds down the side of a mountain on switch back roads, sunglasses slipping down his nose and blonde hair growing lighter by the hour from the light of the sun. It’s a good start, Brian thinks.

_mile 457_

Their next stop is the Grand Canyon, and the GPS tells them it’ll take about seven hours. Brian takes this as an invitation for a seven hour nap, but Jae is faster, taking one hand off the wheel to poke at Brian’s bicep until it’s sore.

“Dude, you’re missing the point of the road trip,” he whines, long fingers wrapping around Brian’s arm so he can forcibly shake Brian awake. Brian doesn’t hate it as much as he probably should.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he protests, but then Jae’s hand leaves and he kind of regrets it.

“Put on some decent music,” Jae insists, “I need something to distract me from how fucking hot it is.”

Even with the AC on full blast Brian feels his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin, and while he doesn’t quite understand how the music is supposed to help with that, he obliges anyway.

Because Jae had gotten “Death Valley” stuck in Brian’s head earlier, he decides to stick with the theme and play more Fall Out Boy, which is a blessing and a curse because it means Jae knows and sings along to every word.

Brian’s proud to say Jae’s voice doesn’t make him swoon anymore— he’d trained himself out of that not long after he realized it was necessary to preserve their friendship. But if his heart drops a little when Jae croons _do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby,_ Brian really doesn’t think he can be faulted for that.

+

They have to stop three hours in for gas and so Jae can pee, because his bladder is the size of a pea and he makes sure Brian knows it. He comes back to the car with two orange Gatorades and some beef jerky, so Brian forgives him.

+

They swing by a Denny’s for dinner, but it’s quick and dirty because the sun is starting to near the horizon and Brian wants to make it to see the half dome before it’s dark.

It’s an easy stop to make, with a wide parking lot and a sandstone walkway leading out to a scenic overlook, the crowd thinning as the day draws to a close. Brian thinks it’s pretty, but Jae seems thoroughly unimpressed.

“It’s a dome,” he says, arms crossed over his chest and eyes scrunching up at the corners as he tries to discern something special about it.

“Half dome,” Brian corrects without much conviction, “but yeah.”

Jae turns, the gravel beneath his feet making a loud enough sound that it startles Younghyun. “I think I saw ice cream sandwiches for sale in the gift shop.”

Brian doesn’t have to be told twice.

When their ice cream sandwiches are nothing but melted smudges of chocolate on their fingertips, Jae says they should take a photo to prove to their moms that they’re not dead yet, and Brian tries to be cool about the feeling of Jae’s hand on his waist, Jae’s head on his shoulder. Keyword: tries.

They get back into the car and head for the place Brian found for them to stay for the night as the last bit of ochre sunlight disappears beneath the mountains. Jae’s humming “On the Road Again” under his breath and Brian turns up the radio loud enough to drown it out with some Top 40 the rest of the way there. It’s better this way.

_mile 725_

They get a little lost, which means that they don’t check in until 9:30. The dry heat is sucking every ounce of moisture out of Brian’s body and his plan is to submerge himself in the bathtub until he feels less like a sponge out of water, but Jae jostles his shoulders and points, a better idea on his mind.

The pool is technically closed (what kind of motel pool closes at 9?), but that’s not exactly a challenge, because the fence is barely four feet tall and the guard at the front desk seemed a lot more preoccupied with his men’s health magazine than with actually guarding anything.

Jae throws his duffel bag over first before he hoists himself up, nearly tripping when he swings his leg over to make it down the other side of the fence. Brian nearly loses his mind with laugher, and Jae has to throw the package of complementary soaps the person at the desk had given him at Brian before Brian can sober up enough to make his own way over.

They don’t really have to talk— for one, it’s intuitive enough that they’re just going to swim in their boxers, with no time or space to change into swimming trunks. Jae’s boxers have four leaf clovers on them, and when Brian laughs and points Jae pushes him into the pool.

They both look to the door that they know leads to the lobby, hearts still in their chests as they wait to see if the splash alerted anyone. No one emerges, and Jae jumps in after Brian.

He shakes his head like a dog when he surfaces, flinging water all over Brian and turning his hair into something resembling a pile of wet straw hanging over his eyes. Before Brian even thinks about it, his hand is moving, and he pushes the wet strands back to expose Jae’s eyes and forehead.

Jae’s always painfully good looking but especially like this, shirtless and grinning at Brian as they swim after hours in a motel pool.

Brian breaks the moment, splashing water at Jae’s chest and chin. A little gets into Jae’s mouth and he sputters indignantly, saying something about betrayal as he wraps his limbs around Brian like an octopus and attempts to drag Brian under.

Eventually there’s the light of a flashlight coming around the corner, and they have to make a mad dash for their clothes, dripping as they run barefoot all the way back to their room.

They shower and then sit cross legged on Brian’s bed as they pass his water bottle full of vodka between them, an episode of Full House playing on the ancient TV. It’s a weird situation for sure—Brian wouldn’t trade it for the world.

+

It’s already hot by the time they wake up, and Brian can only afford about twenty minutes lounging in bed before his clothes are sticking uncomfortably to his skin despite the sputtering of the AC unit in the corner. Jae is in bed but awake, probably has been for a while, but gracefully lets Brian stumble around, half awake and cursing as he bumps into shit on his way to the bathroom.

When he comes back, he notices that Jae is laying on top of his sheets, wearing just boxers that are a few inches shorter than the ones from last night. It’s a lot for—Brian groans—eleven o’clock in the morning.

“We should get going,” he says, and Jae grins, giving Brian an exaggerated shudder.

“Well when you say it in your morning voice, how could I say no?” he teases, and Brian rolls his eyes. His morning voice is remarkably different from his normal voice, and Jae loves it—it’s a well established fact. Brian just wishes the reminder didn’t make him blush every time.

Their plans for the Grand Canyon are simple: walk around, take some pictures, try not to die. Neither of them can be classified as the outdoorsy type, but the Grand Canyon is a bucket list thing and Brian is determined to make the most of it, despite his own predilections (or lack thereof).

Brian does his best to not laugh when Jae dons a bucket hat and slathers his pale arms in sunscreen, and then they head out.

“It’s hot as all fuck,” Jae comments conversationally when they’re standing under the shade of a sparse tree, looking out at orange rock for as far as they can see. Brian hums his agreement, offering Jae a bite of his Nature Valley granola bar. Jae accepts.

When he’s done chewing, Jae opens his mouth to ask for Brian’s water, and Brian’s shoving it into Jae’s hand before he can even get the words out.

Jae grins. “Thanks Bribri,” he says, right before he tips his head back and downs half of Brian’s water bottle.

Brian would be mad, but the view of Jae’s long neck, dotted with moles and adams apple moving as a little water runs down to his collarbone is almost worth it. Almost.

They hike only the easiest trails, barely dipping below the rim of the canyon before turning back. Jae vlogs part of it, and Brian does his best to be as obnoxious as possible for Jae’s youtube audience. There’s exactly one photo op on an intimidating outcropping of rock hanging over the canyon, and Brian thinks they’re both going to die when Jae latches on to him as they stumble their way back to the main trail.

They make it back to the top in one piece, and Brian convinces Jae to buy him dinner as repayment for the near death experience. It’s not fine dining by any means, but the sketchy diner a ways away from the canyon that they settle into plays good music and isn’t horrifically dirty, which is all they can really ask for.

+

The next day they do a driving tour of the South rim, winding on dusty orange roads with amazing views for a few hours before they start to cut a more straightforward path towards Vegas. They’re determined to get there before dark, but Jae draws out a gas station stop by messing with his camera and Brian holds them up on lunch as he eats a whole pizza by himself, so they don’t pull into the parking lot of their hotel until after the sun has set.

They drop their stuff in their room and then they head right back out, leaving the car in the lot as they make their way down the sidewalk towards the heart of the strip.

The humidity of Vegas at night presses down like a weight on Brian’s shoulders, but it’s not so uncomfortable that he has to complain about it. Jae has no such restraint, bitching freely and loudly as he drapes his body quite dramatically over Brian’s back, making Brian stumble as they both laugh.

“Carry me,” he whines, breath hot as it fans over Brian’s ear and sending shivers down Brian’s spine.

“You’re too heavy,” Brian whines back because he’s a smartass like that, but it doesn’t stop Jae from jumping on Brian’s back anyway. Brian groans dramatically but wraps his hands around Jae’s thighs anyway, hoisting Jae higher on his back as Jae laughs.

“Onward, peasant!” he commands, shrieking when Brian lets go of Jae’s legs and bends his own knees so that Jae is at least momentarily scared of falling.

He’s still hot and sticky and disgusting, but somehow Brian doesn’t really mind anymore.

They wander down the strip, enjoying the live music on the street and the neon lights reflecting off of every surface. Jae looks up in wonder at the displays and Brian wishes he could take a picture of this, of the way Jae’s profile looks with eyes wide and lips parted, perfect skin illuminated with neon pink.

Jae’s the one who sees the Fountains of Bellagio first, slim fingers wrapping around Brian’s wrist, intermingling with Brian’s charm bracelets as he tugs Brian towards the water.

There’s an empty spot along the railing, just big enough for the two of them to squeeze in side by side. Even in the heat it feels good, comforting, to have Jae pressed up Brian’s side. It’s all he can do to not lean into the touch and rest his head against Jae’s shoulder.

The buzz of people grows louder, and then quiets as the music begins to play. It’s loud enough to drown out some of the ambient noise from the strip, and Brian can’t keep himself from laughing when he realizes what song it is.

Jae realizes too, and he turns to Brian, eyes lighting up.

“Bri Bri,” he starts, the way he always does when he has a terrible idea, and Brian grimaces. “We have to do the pose!”

The pose. Jae wants Brian to stand in front of him and hold his arms out like a loser because the fountain is playing My Heart Will Go On and Jae is a sap for romance movies.

Well. Far be it from Brian to tell Jae no.

He makes sure to at least act like he’s resisting, even a little bit, but he steps up, putting his toes on the bottom of the railing to lift him an extra inch off the ground. Jae grins, moving behind him and easily winding his arms around Brian, big hands splaying on either side of Brian’s waist.

“You’re such an idiot,” Brian reminds him, and Jae laughs right in Brian’s ear.

“You gotta say it,” he says, and Brian clears his throat for effect.

Putting on his best high pitched voice, he says, “I’m flying Jae,” before immediately reverting back to his real voice. “Happy?”

Jae can’t answer over his laughter, and Brian takes the opportunity to get his feet on the ground again. Jae’s hands drop from his waist, but they don’t move far—just to the railing on either side of Brian, so that Jae’s arms are caging Brian in. Jae hooks his chin over Brian’s shoulder, and it occurs to Brian that this should probably feel uncomfortable. It doesn’t.

Brian turns his attention back to the water instead of the feeling of Jae around him, and he isn’t disappointed. What starts off as playful arches turns into a veritable wall of water, the spray sending mist gusting over their faces even at this distance. The movement of the water matches the music beautifully, and Brian can’t help but wonder about the technology and planning that must go into a show like this.

He voices as much to Jae when it’s over, and Jae just laughs. “Only you Brian,” he says, grinning as he shakes his head. “Only you. You always think so much, man. Just let yourself enjoy this, okay?”

Jae slings an arm around Brian’s shoulder, pulling him close as they start to meander their way further down the Vegas strip, and all Brian can think about is what he just said.

Maybe he can just let himself enjoy this—this trip, being with Jae, being _close_. There will be plenty of time to overthink when they get home. For now, he can just enjoy it.

+

Vegas is the kind of place where you have fancy, overpriced brunch no matter what day of the week it is, so that’s exactly what they do the morning after, heads still pounding from drinking the rest of Brian’s vodka the night before. Jae has his arms out in a white muscle tee with a flannel knotted around his waist, and Brian does his best not to stare. He supposes that Jae’s slender, pale, mole dotted arms may not be everyone’s cup of tea but, well. They’re certainly his.

If he’s being indulgent, Brian might go so far as to think that Jae spared a glance at his chest stretching out a thin black Ramones shirt when Brian stepped out of the bathroom that morning, but he doesn’t want to be too hopeful.

They make a vow to come back when they’re older after Jae tries and fails to charm mimosas out of their waitress, but their ridiculously sweet blueberry french toast is delicious nonetheless. Brian drinks an exorbitant amount of caffeine because hey, free refills, and only cringes a little bit when it’s time to pay the bill. They’re only able to afford this trip because they saved up during the year, Brian working at a service desk and Jae taking extra shifts at the boba place he’s been an employee at since high school. Still, the cost of their breakfast could have bought them at least half a tank of gas. Brian tells Jae as much, who makes a face at Brian’s ability to do that math in his head.

“You know maybe you should stay a business major, because doing math and worrying about money on vacation is gross and something no self respecting humanities student would do. Stop it,” he says, and at least that makes Brian laugh and forget for a while.

It’s too hot to wander around but they do it anyway, eager to see how different everything looks in the light of day. Jae buys them cold but overpriced soda from a street vendor and the carbonation gives Brian a stomach ache—he drinks the whole thing anyway.

When they’ve seen enough and are sufficiently sweaty, they finally head back for the car. In an unexpected stroke of common sense they had packed up before breakfast, so Jae gets to pull straight out of the parking lot as Brian sets course on the GPS for Yosemite.

+

It takes them all of 6 hours to get there, which means that the sun has disappeared behind the sky high tree line when they finally make it to the park. No road trip is complete without sleeping in the car, which is what Brian uses as his excuse when Jae asks why they’re not in a lodge for the night. Really, it’s because he forgot to book anything and making last minute plans for Yosemite turns out to be a real bitch, but he’s not gonna let Jae know that. Either way, Jae accepts it rather quickly, and finds them a public camping site where they can park for the night.

There’s been a guitar in the trunk since Cerritos, and somehow it didn’t occur to either of them to take it out until now. Brian digs an old beach towel out from underneath the back seat, spreading it on the hood before he hops up and grinning at Jae as he crosses his legs and gets comfortable.

Jae rolls his eyes, but he puts the guitar in Brian’s lap before he jumps up too, rocking the car with his momentum as he tries to find space for all of his limbs. Brian laughs at his awkward movements and Jae threatens to shove him off—Brian is happy.

Brian plays first, nothing in particular, just a simple strumming pattern he knows Jae can improv to.

Jae just so happens to be a sadistic bastard, and looks Brian in the eyes as he sings the most ridiculous lyrics he can think of, topics ranging from how bad Brian’s socks smell to how it’s hot as balls even without the sun to beat down on them. Brian doubles over, the body of the guitar digging into his ribs as he wheezes with laughter, trying his best to keep the instrumental going.

Eventually Jae runs out of things to complain about, and he nudges Brian’s arm with his elbow so Brian will pass the guitar over. When he first starts to play, it takes Brian a second to recognize the song.

“‘High and Dry’? Really?” Brian asks through laughter, and Jae just grins.

“Do you know the words or not, asshole?”

Apparently people are into angsty Radiohead, because there’s scattered applause from neighboring RVs and tents when the song is over, and Jae raises his eyebrows at Brian in a non-verbal “I told you so.”

After that, a guy in a trucker hat and a dirty tee shirt approaches and asks if he can make a song request. Jae says it’ll cost him, and that’s how they end up trading four songs on the guitar for four chicken and vegetable kabobs that are shockingly delicious. Those plus a bag of chips Brian unearths from the backseat keeps them fed, and they play until their fingers hurt and Jae starts trying to lay down on the hood of the car, using Brian’s thighs as his pillow. Brian is a pushover and lets him, propping the guitar against the windshield and leaning back so Jae can get comfortable, arms crossed over his chest and legs dangling off the hood as his eyes close and blond hair fans across Brian’s lap.

Brian had the forethought to bring his JBL speaker out with the guitar, so he puts it up against the windshield and plays his stargazing playlist that he is not ashamed of having, no not at all. Jae hums along to a few of the songs, eyes still closed and shoulders visibly relaxing as time goes on. The campers and families around them start to disperse, the air growing colder as fires are extinguished and lamps turned off, everyone retreating to their tents or campers for the night.

Before Brian has the chance to stop it, Jae’s breathing slows, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that tells Brian that Jae is absolutely asleep with his head still in Brian’s lap. It’s a bit selfish, Brian knows, but he takes the opportunity to just enjoy looking at Jae’s face. It’s a nice face—his skin is impossibly smooth, each curve meeting the next with a careful precision that makes him look like he’s been carved out of marble.

There’s a fine shadow of hair across his upper lip and chin, and Brian supposes he probably looks the same by now. Somehow, Jae pulls it off, probably because he’s got those full lips that make Brian want to die every time he looks at them. He tries not to look at them.

In his sleep, Jae turns his head, face seeking the warmth of Brian’s belly. He mumbles something unintelligible against Brian’s tee shirt, and the resulting rumble makes Brian shiver. He takes the opportunity, and gently shakes Jae’s shoulder.

“C’mon man,” he says, softly enough to not be jarring. “You can’t go falling asleep on me, that’s my job.”

“‘S your job to fall asleep on you?” Jae grumbles, refusing to open his eyes even when he rolls onto his back again.

Brian settles for poking at Jae’s neck till he shudders, sliding onto the ground in what is possibly the least graceful thing Brian has ever seen him do. He can’t laugh for long, because then Jae is tugging Brian down too, and pushing him into the backseat.

“You sleep here, I’ll just recline the front seat,” he says, and when Brian tries to protest Jae puts an honest to God finger over his mouth.

“You need sleep more than I do,” he says, far too rational for just having woken up. “So go. Sleep. See you tomorrow or whatever.”

Brian wants to point out that they won’t actually _stop_ seeing each other at any point, but that’s not a fight he’s willing to have when they’re both tired so he just follows orders and climbs into the backseat, stretching out as best he can and pillowing his head on one arm.

Jae reclines the passenger's seat as far as it will go and Brian tucks his feet up under the headrest, Jae sighing as he tries to find a comfortable position. Of course, he finally settles on a fetal position facing Brian, which means that Brian has the Herculean task of tearing his eyes away from Jae’s face long enough to fall asleep.

Somehow, he manages.

+

As indestructible as Jae’s car is, the uncovered windows do little to block out light, which means that Brian is woken up at an ungodly hour by the heat and blinding light of the sun on his face.

He blinks, rubbing at his eyes with the hand that isn’t numb from his uncomfortable sleeping position, and quickly realizes once his vision clears that he’s alone in the car.

The keys are under the seat where Jae left them the night before, so Brian makes an executive decision to take them along with a change of clothes and his toothbrush to the little wooden cabin that held the public bathrooms.

Once he feels significantly less disgusting, he makes his way back to the car to find something to eat, which is when he sees Jae again. He’s perched on the trunk instead of the hood today, legs tucked up criss cross and hands splayed out behind him, eyes closed and chest lifted to the sky as he basks in the morning sun. He looks like a cat, and Brian tells him as much from across the clearing of trees they parked in. Jae laughs and flips him the bird, untucking his legs so they dangle off the back of the car and squinting to see Brian as he approaches.

“You’re a mean cat,” Brian says when he gets close enough to speak at a normal volume, and Jae rolls his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he says goodnaturedly. “What are we gonna do today?”

Brian shrugs, coming up to lean forward and rest his forearms on the trunk next to Jae’s calves. Jae nudges Brian’s shoulder with his toes, and Brian nudge back. “I figured we could drive around the park a bit? Maybe stop for some pictures. It’s pretty, I just don’t really want to hike it.”

Jae wrinkles his nose as he nods in agreement. “Why get out of the car when we can look at the trees _while_ enjoying air conditioning?”

Brian snorts. “Real bold of you to call what this car does ‘air conditioning.’”

He gets nailed in the shoulder by Jae’s heel for that one, but Brian would say that it’s worth it.

Jae’s in a shockingly good mood this morning, humming and head bobbing along to the radio as they wind their way through miles and miles of evergreens. They pass a bag of Doritos back and forth and call it breakfast, which is only gross if Brian thinks about it too hard.

Overall, it’s an uneventful morning—except for the bear.

Really, it’s Jae’s fault, though Brian is sure if you asked him he’d say otherwise. He’s the one who insists on pulling off the road into a small clearing with a picnic table and a trash can, because he wants to stretch his legs and find more of their groceries that they can have for lunch.

Anyway. Brian’s in the middle of cleaning up after them (as well as polishing off the last of a peanut butter and honey sandwich) when Jae lets out what Brian can only refer to as a shriek, short and shrill as it echoes through the trees. Looking up with a start, Brian holds himself steady as Jae smacks at his shoulder, following with his eyes where Jae’s pointing with one slender figure to a black smudge at the tree line.

It takes Brian a moment to register what the fuck he’s even looking at, because he’s never seen a god damn bear in person before, but when he finally does a chill runs through him. Jae’s smacks have turned into a vice grip on Brian’s arm, and he’s whispering frantically into Brian’s ear.

“What fuck do we do what the fuck do we do _what the fuck do we do_?” Jae repeats, and Brian fists the hem of Jae’s shirt in his hand to ground himself.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses back, “it can probably smell your fear.”

“They can do that?” Jae asks, and Brian has to inhale deep through his nose and tamp down the urge to smack Jae with the back of his hand. Not the time.

“Just. Back away slowly. It probably just smelled our food. We just need to get back to the car,” Brian says, keeping his voice calm and measured as he starts stepping backwards towards the car, still not releasing his grip on Jae’s shirt. He can hear Jae gulp next to him, but for once he keeps his mouth shut and does what Brian suggests.

The bear snuffs along the ground, moving pine needles with it’s breath as it moves, never leaving the safety of the tree line. Brian feels the weight on his chest lesson with every additional foot they put between themselves and the animal, and soon enough his back is pressed against the passenger’s side door.

“Go, go, go,” he whispers, shoving Jae off of him. Jae movers around the hood to his side and then they’re both safely in the car, starting the engine as they watch the bear through the windows with bated breath.

It shuffles along, oblivious to their terror, and Brian doesn’t think he’s ever in his life seen Jae drive as fast as he does pulling out of that clearing.

They’re silent for a ways down the road, but then Jae bursts into laughter. It’s comical, the whole thing, and Brian can’t help his own laughter when Jae’s looking at him like that, glancing at Brian with crinkled eyes full of mirth.

That’s the end of their adventure in Yosemite, as brief as it was. Brian can still feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest as they leave the forest behind, and he can’t wait till they can see the ocean again.

_mile 987_

The road to San Francisco is paved with Fall Out Boy, because Jae is demanding and Brian can’t say no.

Jae sings along to every song, and when Brian’s playlist runs out they turn on the radio and he sings along to every song on there too. Brian’s favorite is a song about not being sad anymore, because it suits Jae’s high, breathy tone and Jae looks happiest singing it.

The drive is short compared to other stretches of their trip, just over four hours even with their stop for dinner at a drive in. The sun is nearing the water when they finally make it to the coast, and Brian urges Jae to park with hushed excitement, cuffing up his pants and slipping off his shoes as soon as their feet hit sand. The beach is nearly empty at a little after 7 p.m., leaving Brian’s path unobstructed as he walks single mindedly towards the water.

With the sky just barely darkened, the water is still comfortably warm as it laps at his ankles, and Brian can’t help but close his eyes and inhale deep through his nose to take in the smell of salt and wood in the air. The sound of water moving lets him know that Jae has joined him, though Brian’s not sure he would have even needed that tell. At this point, he thinks he might just know.

Eventually, Brian supposes that he has to admire the view, so he opens his eyes again and spares a glance at Jae on his left side. His eyes are trained out on the horizon, far past the hulking rocks that rest just off shore and the gentle curve of the waves coming into shallower water.

“Everytime you look, it’s different.” Jae’s eyes never waiver, which is probably why the sudden sound of his voice startles Brian so much. “You can look at the same water a hundred times, and each time there’ll be something new to see.”

“There’s a lot of ocean to see,” Brian adds, feeling a bit dumb, but the feeling dissapates as soon as Jae looks his way, his eyes crinkling in the smile that Brian knows like the back of his hand or the chords to his favorite song.

“We’ll see a lot of it, though,” he replies, and it takes Brian a moment to register that Jae is talking about their drive home tomorrow, not some abstract future in which they try to visit as much of the coast as possible—though it’s not a bad idea. Maybe he’ll pitch that after they get home. Jae will probably laugh at him, point out that Brian had to be convinced to go on this trip in the first place, but Brian won’t mind. He never does, not when it’s Jae.

In the end, he just hums in agreement, digging his toes a little deeper in the cool sand as Jae looks back to the water.

When they walk back to the car after the sun has set, it’s so close that their hands brush against each other, and Brian has to really try to not reach out and finish closing the gap.

+

The wind keeps the next morning cool as they wander the streets and boardwalks, stopping to admire street artists making spray paint masterpieces and the performers who manage to stand perfectly still for hours on end. Jae tries to argue that he’d last longer than Brian because Brian would have to break to eat, and Brian counters with his ability to sleep standing up. They never reach agreement, but it’s nice anyway.

There’s a huge anchor that’s been made into a statue of sorts just off a public dock, so when they’re done eating gelato with their feet dangling over the water they spend a few too many minutes clambering all over it, shoving at each other and giggling like children. Jae fumbles for his vlog camera and gets a shot of Brian with his wind blown hair in his face, grinning as he tries to shove Jae off the pedestal. That’ll make it to twitter for sure.

Brian snags the camera later, walking a few paces behind Jae so he can yell out encouragements as Jae pretends to model on the dock, thin flannel billowing out behind him as he spreads his arms wide, his upturned face and closed eyes making him look like a prince (albeit a terribly dressed one). Brian thinks it suits him.

They have to strip down to their tee shirts when they get back to the car, where no wind reaches and the sun bakes the metal to unconscionable temperatures. It feels bittersweet to be heading home after all this time, and Brian takes a fond look at the backseat, covered in CDs and clothes and half eaten bags of chips and beef jerky. There’s a home here, a life they’ve built over the past week that Brian isn’t sure will stay with them when it’s all over. Nothing’s changed, not really, but still it feels different. Or maybe that’s just Brian being hopelessly in love with his best friend and being too afraid to do anything about it.

He turns his eyes forward when Jae pulls out onto Highway 1, and looks towards home.

_mile 1,206_

Brian’s stomach grumbles audibly, and Jae bursts into laughter as he takes the first exit he sees, pulling into a Wawa parking lot with a grin still on his face.

“Thanks,” Brian says sheepishly, and Jae waves him off.

“I need to eat too, let’s just make a stop out of it.”

They really do—Brian thinks about 50% of the food in the place ends up in their baskets by the time they’re checking out, but what are road trips for if not indulgence? At least that’s how Brian rationalizes it.

They bring it all back to the car, spreading the food out on their laps, the center console, and the backseat. Jae rolls the windows down and Brian lets his arm hang out over the door, the still, humid air doing nothing except make him sweat even more.

It’s too hot to eat this much but Brian manages anyway, if only because his organs are threatening mutiny otherwise. Jae slurps down a milkshake as Brian finishes two subs and a box of mozzarella sticks, and eventually all is right with the world.

Well, almost.

“Dude, how’d you manage to get food like, all over your face?” Jae snorts, and Brian shrugs.

“I’m an enthusiastic eater,” he says, taking one last bite to polish off his final sandwich before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Clearly he doesn’t get it all, because Jae just shakes his head, a smile on his face.

“Just let me get it,” he says, and before Brian can protest (not that he would, but it’s the principle of it), Jae is reaching across the table, wiping the corner of Brian’s lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Thanks,” Brian says, cheeks pricking with heat when he realizes how breathless he sounds.

“No problem,” Jae chirps, turning back to look out the windshield as he lets the back of his head hit the headrest. He sighs, and Brian waits.

“I feel,” he begins, and Brian braces himself. “Like I’m going to die.”

Brian snorts, heart settling back into its place, which begs the question of what he was anticipating from Jae in the first place. “I told you not to have that milkshake.”

“And I told you that I’m not gonna let a dairy product be the end of me,” Jae replies, though the way his eyes flutter shut in discomfort right after really doesn’t help his case.

“Okay tough guy, whatever will make you feel better when you’re shitting your brains out in a gas station later.”

Jae glares and Brian laughs, yelping when Jae shoves at his shoulder with a grin on his face.

(They do, in fact, have to stop at a Sunoco no more than twenty minutes later, and Brian gets gas while Jae shits his brains out. Then, Brian doesn’t say anything about it.)

_mile 1,303_

“I feel bad for this car,” Jae announces, eyes never leaving the road.

Brian snorts. “Why?”

“It’s had to carry us for thousands of miles in the heat,” Jae answers like it should be common sense and Brian is just an idiot.

“How about feeling bad for us, the ones who have been stuck in this thing for thousands of miles in the heat?” Brian asks, and when Jae spares a glance over to him, Brian can see the familiar spark of an argument in his eyes.

“Yes, but we did this to ourselves Bri, the car never asked for this,” he says, and Brian groans.

“Are you trying to argue that cars have feelings? You know, if you had disclosed that I’d have to put up with your philosophical polsci major bullshit, I wouldn’t have agreed to this trip.”

Jae just laughs. “That’s just part of our friendship, Bri. I have to put up with you spouting poetry at me, I think it’s a fair trade.

Brian sniffs in mock offense, just ‘cause he knows it’ll make Jae giggle. “Just be glad I don’t make you listen to me talk about competitive advantage,” he threatens, and Jae just laughs at him.

“You wouldn’t, because you hate business,” he retorts, and Brian has to give that to him.

At Brian’s silence, Jae continues. “I’m just saying, I think you should give English some consideration.”

“What am I gonna do with a degree in a language I already speak?” Brian asks, and surprisingly, Jae has an answer.

“What are you gonna do with a degree in a subject you hate?”

Brian doesn’t have an answer to that.

Silence isn’t so oppressive when there’s a view, so he’s content to keep his thoughts to himself and spend the next hour staring out the window, watching the late afternoon sun reflect off the ocean like thousands of shards of sea glass.

It’s not that he’s never given the idea any consideration. Brian started college with the intention of being an English major—then he started listening to everyone around him that was telling him not to. Everyone except Jae.

Brian pushes the thoughts aside. He had a full blown identity crisis before he declared as a business major, and he isn’t really looking for a repeat. But if he isn’t thinking about what the hell he’s gonna do with his life then he’s thinking about Jae, which is also not conducive to his overall health and wellbeing.

Brian sighs, letting his temple hit the window as he gives up on policing his thoughts. He spares a glance at the clock— eight more hours till they’re back in Cerritos. Plenty of time for a nap. Brian lets his eyes close, ignoring the orange glow behind his eyelids in favor of a dreamless sleep.

+

By the time Brian wakes the sun has set, leaving the ocean to be illuminated by only the silvery glow of the moon. Jae’s put on music in the meantime, so Brian comes around to the sound of Ella Fitzgerald singing about birds in the sycamore trees.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Jae says as Brian sits up, and Brian swipes the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hey,” Brian echoes, and even in the dark he thinks he can see Jae shiver at the sound of his voice made thick from sleep. “How’re you doing?”

“What, like, in life?” Jae asks, and Brian lets out a half assed “ha.”

“With driving, smartass,” he answers, and Jae shrugs.

“My whole body kinda hurts, but I’m seeing how long I can tough it out.”

Brian hums, settling back against the window to listen to the rest of the song.

“How long” is honestly longer than Brian expects, because it takes another hour for Jae to cede to his own exhaustion. In that time, Brian’s grown tired again, which means that he’s more than agreeable when Jae sas, “We gotta stop,” with a shake of his head.

Jae pulls into the first motel they see, which is thankfully only a few miles past the declaration. Brian is struggling to keep his eyes open, but at this point he’d feel terrible for sleeping when Jae can’t.

He feels like a zombie as they stumble inside, eyelids heavy and feet dragging across the floor as Jae pays for the only clean room they have left (Brian’s too tired to think about what that means).

He’s too tired to think until they open the door and stand shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, facing a single full sized bed. Brian looks over to Jae, who meets his gaze with an expression that’s practically unreadable.

If it wasn’t 3 a.m., or if he was with anyone else, maybe Brian would offer to take a pillow and sleep on the floor. But that’s not the situation they’re in. Brian hasn’t seen a bed since Vegas, and he thinks that if Jae tries to take this from him he might be pushed to homicide. So, he turns his face forward and walks into the room.

“I don’t care if you don’t,” he says, just barely managing to turn his chin so Jae can hear him before dropping his bag at the foot and falling onto the plush comforter, back facing the door.

Brian hears a deep breath and footsteps, softened by the worn carpet, and then the bed dips as Jae takes his spot next to Brian.

“Night,” Brian says, and it’s so soft he thinks Jae might not hear him.

He does. “Night,” Jae echoes, his voice only a whisper in the still air of the dark motel room.

Maybe he’s just tired, but Brian doesn’t feel the least bit awkward as he slips into unconsciousness. Actually, if he thinks about it, the weight of Jae on the bed next to him is more comforting than not.

He tries not to think about it.

+

When he finally cracks his eyes open again, there’s sunlight falling in golden lines across the carpet, the bed, Brian’s chest. It takes him no longer than that to register Jae’s presence beside him, and Brian feels a wrench in his chest when he realizes that he didn’t have to look; he can just feel. He feels the weight on the other side of the mattress, feels the heat coming off of Jae—he almost thinks he can feel the air move with the rise and fall of Jae’s chest.

Brian breathes in through his nose, counts to three, and then rolls onto his back with a groan. Now that he can see, he can affirm that he was right about Jae still being there. Of course he is— somehow, that doesn’t make Brian feel as good as it should. For a victory lap, this trip has done a lot to increase his inner turmoil. It was a lot easier to pretend he’s not in love with his best friend when he wasn’t permanently glued to said best friend’s side.

They take turns showering, and Brian relishes in being able to shave his face again afterwards, clearing a section of the fogged up mirror. He hates that his stubble grows so much faster than Jae’s, but he can’t do anything about it when they’ve been confined to public restroom usage only for the past two days.

His body feels like it’s complaining as they get back in the car, but Brian does his best to ignore it. Jae is unusually quiet, has been all morning actually, and Brian spends his brain power worrying about that instead of his own physical discomfort. He wonders what that says about him.

Jae’s got two hands on the wheel for once, a white knuckle grip with eyes fixated on the horizon and mouth set in a straight line. He doesn’t demand that Brian put on music so Brian does it on his own, choosing a soft alt rock station that seems to fit the mood.

Even with music the relative quiet is unnerving, and Brian stares out the window as he drums his fingers on the passenger's side door, trying to distract himself from the awkwardness.

It was a fear of his, going in, that spending thousands of miles and upwards of thirty hours together would make Jae grow tired of him. Last night appears to have been the final straw, because Brian can’t think of anything else that had changed other than just another night Jae was stuck with him.

At least they’re on their way home, Brian thinks. They’ve got another five hours to go before they’re back in Cerritos, but that feels like nothing after the past few days. It’s not that it’s been bad—the opposite, actually. Brian has enjoyed this, perhaps more than he should have, and its probably (definitely) for the best that they get home and go back to normal before he does something stupid.

He’s pretty sure telling his best friend that he would very much like to kiss him falls solidly in the realm of “something stupid.”

After two hours of just the radio, Brian can’t take it anymore. “You excited to be almost home?” he asks, and when Jae turns Brian thinks that’s the first time he’s really looked at Brian all morning.

The straight set of Jae’s mouth softens into an almost smile. “Yeah. Kinda sad about it too, though. It’s been a good trip.”

“It has,” Brian agrees. Then he whistles. “What I would give for a shower at home and a night in my own bed, though.”

That makes Jae’s smile turn big and real. “What, tired of slumming it with me in motels and the car?”

“Just a bit,” Brian replies.

The air around them seems to relax after that. They still keep to themselves for the rest of the drive, but the tension has leaked from both of their shoulders, and Brian can say that he at least feels a little bit lighter.

_mile 1,691_

It feels almost unreal when they’re pulling into Brian’s driveway, and when Jae finally puts the car in park Brian has to resist the urge to throw himself onto the concrete immediately. He manages to just get out and stretch his legs like a normal person, and Jae follows suit, rounding the hood to stand on the passenger’s side with Brian.

“So,” Brian says, squinting into the mid afternoon sun as he looks up at Jae. “That was a thing that we did.”

Jae hums, nodding along like he isn’t listening to a word Brian is saying. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Brian can’t help but look—if he’s being indulgent he might say that maybe Jae spares a glance at Brian’s mouth too, but that’s just delusional thinking.

“Brian,” Jae says, stepping forward. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong.” Then he’s moving closer, closer, closer till their toes are touching and Brian can’t even get a good look because Jae’s got a hand under his chin and then they’re _kissing_. They’re kissing and Brian never wants it to stop, except that he kind of does because he really wants to ask Jae just what the hell he thinks he’s doing.

Then Jae pulls back, and Brian asks exactly that.

Jae lets out a laugh. “Kissing you, idiot,” he answers. “Thought that was obvious.”

“But _why_ ,” Brian pressed.

Jae shrugs, which really inspires a lot of confidence in Brian. “I just started thinking about how nice it was to be with you all the time, and then I realized I didn’t ever wanna be without you. From there, it was kinda easy to figure out that I had feelings for you.”

“When,” Brian demands to know. “When did you figure it out?”

“That I liked you? Yosemite. That you might like me too? Not till last night,” Jae answers honestly.

“And you kept your knowledge to yourself for five hours?” Brian scolds, knocking Jae in the arm.

Jae sniffs. “Thought you were tired of listening to me talk, figured I’d just show you what I wanted instead.”

“You’re not allowed to be suave, shut up,” Brian laughs, but he can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face. “You’re the worst and I like you so much.”

“Aw thanks BriBri, I guess I like you some,” Jae replies, and Brian just has to kiss the stupid expression off of his best friend’s face.

Later, Jae tells him the truth— that the whole way back to Cerritos he was biting his tongue to keep a confession from slipping out before the time was right. Brian calls him a sap, and Jae repeats his argument that anyone who doesn’t confess his feelings first is not allowed an opinion on when a confession finally occurred. Brian says something about Jae having given the neighbors a free show, and Jae throws popcorn at his face. It’s domestic, in the most BrianandJae way possible. It’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bribeombot)


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